Bye Darling
by breather89
Summary: Sequel to 2015A. After losing Jennifer, it seems as if Marty can't go on. But he tries his best to do so, taking care of his children by himself. Then something happens that will make him know how much he's done...


II

_17__th__ August 2001  
Maine  
3.18pm_

I sat by the television in the room we were renting at the Maine hotel. We'd worked hard to save up for a family vacation in Maine for a week. At the moment, Jennifer was out with the kids in town.

I'd been thinking lately, how long would it take for hoverboards to appear? It had been fun when I'd tried one in 2015, even though I'd been running from a bunch of bullies.

Even so, I couldn't wait.

Jennifer hadn't told me much about 2015, except that now we'd have better than there. Apparently, in the future, we lived in Hill Valley, I'd had a dead-end job that I'd been fired from and we'd lived in a bad area.

So I'd really wanted to take my children somewhere else. We seemed to be happy. Marty Junior was going to start nursery in a week, Marlene was going to a really good school in the suburbs of Brooklyn, we seemed better off than in the original 2015.

I couldn't help feeling though; was this how it was supposed to be?

When we made the decision to move in 1999, was it the right one?

My kids were happy, Jennifer was happy, I was happy. But was that how the original timeline should have gone?

I hardly noticed when the door opened and Jennifer came in, the kids running in after her. Before I could do anything, Marlene had changed the channel.

"Marlene," Jennifer frowned, "ask Daddy if he wants it changed."

"It's OK," I answered, "I wasn't watching anything."

As I moved from the wicker chair, Marty Junior climbed up, with Marlene already in the chair next to him.

In the main bedroom, Jennifer put the bags down before standing by the mirror, taking her earrings out.

"So, had a good walk?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Marlene and Marty Junior went to the Clubhouse. Marlene made a fuss because she's too old for the Tiger Room. Oh, three dollars for a kids' sandwich? It wasn't worth it, so I brought some fries and they went in the kids' area of the bookstore."

Then she sat down on the bed. "Marty, do you like New York?"

I turned to her. "Fine," I answered, "I mean, I'm paid well, you're paid well-"

"For a _receptionist_," she pointed out, half-smiling.

"Hey, they pay you a bit more than other ones I can think of," I told her, "and anyway, you work for a sushi distribution. The kids will appreciate one day when you bring back fish. They just fiddle now."

She sat on the bed, leaning back on her arms, then turned to face me.

"Marty, I don't know," she told me, "should we have stayed in Hill Valley?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I answered, plain as day.

_11__th__ September 2001,  
Brooklyn  
7.20am_

I groaned as I sat up and turned the alarm off. I pushed back the duvet and started getting dressed, as Jennifer grunted, stretching.

After I got dressed, I went downstairs, calling, "Marlene! Junior! Breakfast!"

Marlene sulkily came down the stairs in her green pyjamas, then frowned as she sat down at the table. I asked her, as I got the waffles out, "What's wrong, honey?"

She looked up at me as if I were completely stupid. "Dad, Brittany won't invite me to her party."

I put my waffles down and sat in front of her, resting my arms on the table. "OK," I started, "how serious is it?"

She rolled her eyes – I swear she got it from her mother – and answered, "She's the coolest girl in the class. She's got pierced ears."

In 2001, a six-year-old with pierced ears was a big thing.

I reassured her, "It's fine. It's the start of the year. You'll get some friends. There'll be other parties."

But she looked right down at the chocolate powder on her waffles. "It's not _just_ that. She invited _every single_ other girl. It's not fair!"

Then she took the waffles from the table and went over to the television. I didn't like it when she did that, but she's like her mother; when she doesn't get something her way, she ignores the rules.

I called upstairs, "Junior! You'll be late!"

"Don't wanna go!" I heard him snap back.

"Junior, you've got about fourteen years of school, you better get used to it."

"It's not that," he whined, "I feel icky."

Jennifer came downstairs, wearing her smart receptionist outfit. She asked, "Why's Marlene sulking?"

I told her. Jennifer went over and tried to make Marlene get up. "Honey," she told her, "don't you want to say goodbye?"

Marlene snapped, "No."

But Jennifer stroked Marlene's hair, kissing the top of her head. "Bye-bye, darling."

At the door, just before she went out, holding it open, she turned to me. "Oh, err, is it OK if Margie and I take the kids out for a burger at the weekend?"

I had no idea. She then told me, "It's not that disgusting joint at the end of the road, that place has e coli! No, Margie found this great place near her house and she thinks it's really good. It's got a four-star review."

"Fine," I replied, "you take them if you want to. Maybe do some Christmas shopping on the way?"

She raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "Marty," she started teasing, "Christmas isn't for three months!"

I groaned again, telling her, trying not to look as if I was giving in, "It's just that Marlene wants this new doll."

Jennifer told me, "She doesn't _need_ dolls. She needs to be more adventurous, like I was. I don't want girls growing up to be some pink-obsessed little demons." She then looked at her watch and told her, "OK, well, if I want to beat rush hour, I'd better get going. I'll grab a sandwich and a coffee on the way. Bye darling."

"Bye." I told her, before we had a quick kiss and she walked off down to the station and I shut the door.

_14__th__ September 2001  
Brooklyn  
9.00pm_

I was on the couch. Had I even moved since yesterday? The only reason I even knew it was the fourteenth was because our neighbors order from the same pizza store once a month, often on a Friday.

There were drink cans and chip packets all over the floor. The only stuff I'd managed to eat.

Marlene came into the living room. She told me, "Daddy, the phone's ringing." I hadn't noticed. I looked to my left and picked it up.

"Hello?" my voice sounded like it had been ripped across a coke can that had been sliced to ribbons.

"Marty?" Mom.

"Oh, err, hi Mom," I managed to say, as I listened.

"Marty, we've been trying for three days. I kept calling and calling and I couldn't get through. Where's Jennifer?"

I just put the phone on the side, turned round and burrowed my face against the back of the couch.

I could barely hear anything over my sobbing. But a friend of mine who'd been looking after the children answered the phone, while sending Marlene to dinner.

I didn't hear much. But after what seemed like forever, my friend put the phone down.

He told me, "Your parents give their love."

I felt frustrated that I hadn't had the courage to answer that myself. I asked, "Anything else?"

"Your sister did another bake sale." That made sense. When my sister gets utterly terrified, she bakes or eats. When our grandparents passed away, she made four batches of peanut butter brownies.

I thanked him and carried on miserably glued to the television, watching endless videotapes. I couldn't bear to see the news.

I do register one thing while I was in that state, however.

The kids came down when I had one of their movies on. Marlene had tugged at my clothes when they stood in front of me, at gone midnight, then I looked down, my neck aching from moving it after being still for so long.

Then they climbed up onto the couch, one on each side, with Marty Junior perching his stuffed cat on my knee so he could watch. Then they lay against me, with the only noise snapping me out was their snoring.

_3__rd__ July 2002  
Michigan  
2.50pm_

I sat with the camping stove by the bench as Marty Junior was beside me, chewing on his fries. Marlene and my friend were out on Lake Michigan while I was trying to make the stove work.

Marty pointed at some blue, red and white boats down by the dock. "Why are they painted, Daddy?" he asked.

I answered, "4th July. They're going really big this year."

Marty Junior just carried on with his fries. He then asked, "Why did Mommy go, Daddy?" I was stunned by what the four-year-old said. That was very grown-up for him.

He asked again, looking between his hands on the table and my face, "Well, Mommy died because of bad people. Why did they think stealing a plane would make people listen to them if they died doing it?"

Even after everything I'd seen, I had no idea how to answer him.

I don't think anyone can.

_31__st__ October 2002  
Brooklyn  
6.30pm_

I looked up from the table at the door as it opened. My friend had just brought the kids back from trick-or-treating. Marlene walked to the table in her crocodile outfit, while Marty Junior hung behind and held onto my friend's leg, sucking a toffee.

"Hey kids," I greeted them, "what'd you get?"

Marty Junior frowned at me. Marlene waved her hand and told me, "He's annoyed because the other boys had cowboy outfits and you didn't let him have one."

I looked back at Marty Junior's fireman outfit. "I thought you'd like being a fireman," I told him, walking over to talk to him.

Marlene answered for him. "He said everyone was wearing that last year."

Marty Junior asked me, "Why won't you let me dress up like a cowboy? It's the only outfit I liked."

I couldn't explain to them.

My thoughts were interrupted by Marlene running upstairs.

"Hey!" I called after her, "Give that candy back!"

_25__th__ December 2004  
Brooklyn  
8.00am_

Marlene was knocking on my door when I slowly opened my eyes. "Daddy," she called, "it's time to open the presents!"

I sat up, before calling back to her, "Marlene! Don't let your brother eat chocolate for breakfast again! I'm coming down!"

When I'd got down, they were sitting on the couch, with wrapping paper already strewn all over the carpet.

Marlene was holding an iced tea in her hands, sipping through a straw. She made bubbles, giggling, but I raised my eyebrow at her. I wasn't going to frown at them at Christmas, but that was enough to let her know I wasn't having her mess around.

When we'd opened everything, the kids slotted in a video from the back of the cupboard. They kept whining why couldn't they have a DVD player, everyone else had one. But I told them I preferred videos.

When we'd got it out, Marty Junior asked, "When was the last time we watched this?"

Marlene answered, bluntly, but still rather sad, "Before Mommy died."

We watched in silence, Marlene fiddling with her buttons and Marty Junior looking toward the floor.

Had it really been that long?

_1__st__ January 2015  
Brooklyn  
00.20am_

Oh well. 2015 had arrived. It certainly looks different from 1985, but it's nothing like what I saw. The closest it had got were just three things.

3-D cinema had been popular, as I heavily remembered when I took the children to a movie five years earlier, which had involved me remembering the giant, 3-D shark and I had gone tense.

'Babies' toys' were the old, useless arcade games.

The 1980s were popular again, with a ton of retro stuff and people remaking a ton of eighties films and shows. In fact, even though there wasn't a 'Café 80s' nearby, there was somewhere in the suburbs called 'Nostalgia', which ranged anywhere from the fifties to the nineties.

I think my children realised I was desperately missing the eighties, so they took me there for my last birthday.

I didn't notice, while I lay on the couch, that I was starting to doze off.

I dreamt about Jennifer.

Nothing unusual, I'd dreamt loads about Jennifer since she died. But now, she held a hand by my face, while we stood just outside her house.

She smiled at me. "Hi, Marty," she perked, looking just as beautiful as she did when I dated her.

I stammered, "This is a dream, I can't be doing this."

She rolled her eyes and told me, "Marty, I'm _really_ here. It's just taken thirteen years."

I still thought this was a dream. After all, how else could she be here? But she answered me by saying, "Marty, if you think this is a dream, go to Marty Junior's club later today. If there isn't a flood caused by the snow cone machine, you're dreaming."

I then asked, not quite certain if this was a dream, "So, why are you are here?"

She looked down and then sadly told me, "Because I've watched you raise our kids. Hey, I should really be with you. Well, I was in the other timeline. But you've done a really good job by yourself. I couldn't be prouder. I know I died pretty young, but I wouldn't have lived over a hundred years if it didn't mean spending sixteen with you."

I had no idea what to say. But then I saw behind us, right through endless white fog, what seemed to be lots of people. I then began to ask, "Are those…"

She nodded. "Well, some of them. Some have already gone beyond."

I began to say, "But Doc…"

"There are things even he doesn't know," Jennifer answered, before walking toward the fog. I still held her hand, though, before she looked behind, smiled at me one last time, told me, "Goodbye, Marty." And then let go.

I woke up.

When I reached Marty Junior's club that afternoon, he was standing outside, along with a group of other kids, all moaning.

I asked him, when I came up, "What happened?"

He turned to me. "Next-door's snow cone machine flooded and it ruined the whole floor."

I felt a small shiver go down my spine that wasn't caused by the intense January cold.

Marty Junior asked me, "Do you want to go home now?"

I snapped out of it and looked at him. "Yeah, OK."

**A/N: Believe me, I know what it's like to lose someone.**


End file.
